Between You & Me
by Rebecca Pierce
Summary: They are the little moments. . . those little things that you'd think didn't count. But maybe, just maybe, they mean more to you than anything you ever thought to treasure.
1. Penny

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**_A/N: _**I did it again. I started a new story XD This is a bunch of one-shots because I need practice. Something to warm up, you know? You'll have the joy of seeing lots of random couples, some regular ones, really, anything sorta goes in here. So yeah. If you like, drop me a review, mmk? And if u have a theme you'd like to see, don't hesitate to let me know. :)

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_**Theme: **_Penny

_**Couple: **_Heero Yui (Gundam Wing)/ Allenby Beardsley (G-Gundam)

_**Summary: **_Make a wish on a maybe lucky penny.

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"It's a penny." She looked up at him then, blinking.

"But it might be lucky!" She retorted, cradling it in her hand.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly. Seeing his look, Allenby frowned, wrinkling her nose as she stuck her tongue out at him.

"How do you know if it's lucky or not?"

She sighed in exasperation then, turning to him in a huff with a look on her face that seemed to ask if he really didn't know something that should've been so obvious.

"Well," she began, sticking said penny up in his face, "if you find it and make a wish and it comes true, then it's lucky!"

His Prussian blue eyes slid from the penny to her own wide emerald gaze that was set firmly on him.

"So what did you wish for?" He asked as she put the penny once more in her coat pocket.

"Heerooooo, that's a secret!" Turning to him, her hands went on her hips, her mouth set crookedly. Then she stuck her nose up in the air, her voice taking on a haughty tone as she smirked. "And no matter what you do, I'm not telling you."

His gaze narrowed then, noticing the challenge in her words and the determination spark in her gaze. Frowning, he tried to contemplate of something to do to the Swedish girl to make her tell him, but thought of nothing (not including pain).

Allenby grinned in triumph, seemingly reading his thoughts. "You'll never know."

It was then she noticed the smirk that began to surface on her companion's face. But before she could ask why, he brought his face close to hers, looking her straight in the eye as he asked, "What if I do this?"

And without a moment to spare, he brought his lips to hers and placed a gentle kiss on them, leaving her momentarily dazed. Pulling back, he raised an eyebrow once more.

"So? Did it work?" Allenby blushed, but not before laughing.

"That penny is definitely lucky!"


	2. Touch

**A/N: **Originally part of the Burn universe (my AU in Digimon) but now that I look at it, I think it could stand alone for any Yamuki fans. Oh, and a **warning: ONE CURSE** is said in this. Tis all for now.

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_**Theme: **_Touch

_**Couple: **_Yamato Ishida (Digimon: Digidestined)/ Ruki Makino (Digimon Tamers)

_**Summary: **_Maybe, just this once, I can forget the world in your arms. . .

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"Go ahead. Say it Ruki." He looked into her eyes, daring her to say something.

Her violet eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted as she floundered hopelessly for words.

There were so many emotions running through her and he could see it; he could _feel_ how she was falling. But if he said something now and helped her up, things wouldn't be solved. She needed to help herself up just this once.

Still . . .

There was an electricity that jumped through his veins like liquid fire every time he saw her. His fingers were _dying_ to trail along her cheek. The look of desperation in her violet orbs only made him feel worse and those lips . . . _just one touch_. . . one measly little moment of her enveloping and drowning him was all he asked for.

_Just one_ . . .

But he wouldn't do it; he _couldn't_ do it. They both understood that.

And as this realization trickled into his soul, Yamato sighed suddenly, realizing that it had all been a mistake. They couldn't be; it was wrong. She wasn't going to be his rebound. He didn't have the heart to go through with something so cruel.

As for her side of the matter, she needed to find solid ground before she could jump into anything new, and she understood that Yamato was anything but. They were both on a crumbled foundation; they needed to start over. A relationship built on such unsteady terms would only break under the touch of a feather. And _God forbid_ they lose each other. They had gone through so much in so short a time that they were both afraid to ask for more. They somehow knew asking for more would only lead to certain disaster.

Maybe they weren't meant to be here . . . and maybe this wasn't meant to be.

Yamato finally broke his gaze away from hers, pulling back from where he had pinned her against the wall. He didn't even bother to look at her; how could he after what they had both just realized?

Turning, he muttered a hasty apology before making to walk away. He got two weary steps ahead before her voice broke the heavy silence.

"Damn you Ishida!" She suddenly cried, her voice pained.

For a moment everything seemed to speed up, catching him in a whirl of confusion as he suddenly found himself jerked back roughly, half pulled/ half shoved in such a way that he was turned around and then into an embrace as his lips were met by the warmth of Ruki's.

At first he didn't react. His mind was still trying to figure out what was going on; at least it would have up until he realized that it was _Ruki_ in his arms. That it was _her_ petite tomboyish form trembling as her arms slipped up around his neck to pull him in closer, and that it was _her_ warm lips now hungrily catching his own.

And he didn't know how long they stood like that, together, greedily drinking from a cup that they knew would end up poisoning them. And he didn't know how her back met the wall, or how his hands found her small waist and pulled her in closer, his breaths ragged as he tried to take in every aspect of her his senses would allow. He couldn't even begin to fathom how her hands found their way to his hair; nor how his blazer and hers ended up on the floor.

But there was one thing he knew as he hugged her close, their breaths ragged, and their forms trembling.

He didn't give a care about what happened after this.


	3. Nothing

_**Theme: **_Nothing

_**Couple: **_Tomoyo Daidouji/ Draco Malfoy

_**Summary: **_She meant nothing to him.

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She meant nothing to him.

A wife, a tool, a thing to be used to his pleasure and come at his every beckon-that was what he believed a woman should be.

And that was how it started.

It was a casual "Hello," a simple "Good morning;" little things no one ever notices or counts as anything but polite grace. It was a cup of tea here, an escort to the lavish party of some important wizard there, and a light hand upon his raised arm when he beckoned her.

A diamond for show.

Soft features and the makings of a long-standing history of _rich_; hair like woven midnight skies, and twinkling violet orbs that spoke volumes of innocence and heaven's forbidden stars.

When he looked at her every night lying beside him in their large bed, he couldn't quite grasp that she was real. Because the moonlight fell upon her features and then she would shift, and her hair would fall upon the pillows like strands of inky sky upon their silver silk sheets, and he would have to touch her face -if only for a moment- to remind himself that she was real, that she had no wings, and that most of all, she was _his_.

She never faded.

But there were times when he would come suddenly awake at night, sweat on his brow and fear clinching his cold heart heavily; because he could feel Voldemort's presence within him still- even after all these years after his supposed death and it left him feeling dirty then, but most of all _used_, like he held no sway in his messed up destiny.

Draco's steely blue eyes would be wide then, and he would be trembling and trying not to wake her.

But she knew; even while asleep she knew.

His hands would look for her in the dark, seeking warmth he never admitted to needing. Slowly, the tips of his calloused hands would seek her skin-gently falling on the curve of her cheek, her pink lips, dainty chin, and then following the swan-like column of her neck down past her collarbone to the place in her chest where her heart continued its strong beat.

Tomoyo would never wake, or just understood beyond anything he ever thought a wife would- she knew of his pride.

When his hand was resting over her heart, she would give a deep sigh and turn towards him (because even while asleep she knew he liked his space) and so on the rare occasions he silently asked for her warmth, she would give it without question.

Nothing would be asked, and so nothing answered. Her nose would come to nuzzle into his chest and it would remind him that he too had a heartbeat, albeit a colder one. The small breath that escaped her lips would be silent but warm upon his bare skin, and the thick of her dark lashes would stay closed peacefully, somehow calming even when covering the dark of her violet gaze. Then her dainty doll-like arm would come to curl around him securely, and before he knew it his too would be around her and she'd be past all and any barriers he thought he had fortified against her love.

Like they'd always been that close.

Then and only then could his eyes finally close firmly for the night. And in the morning, when he woke, she would be gone-already making breakfast (because a wife should always cook for her husband, even if she has maids), and last night would be nothing but a fading nightmare in the back of his head-a figment of his overworked mind.

Darkness does that to him.

And then there would be the casual "hello," the simple "How are you this morning?" Things associated with two strangers living in the same mansion, sharing the same room, sleeping in the same bed.

But then she would smile, and suddenly it's not so cold in the kitchen and she knows.

She's nothing to him.

Even if the dark of her eyes know different.


End file.
